A Thousand Years
by FangBreath
Summary: Mary's got some confessions to make. Takes place during the dance in 2x08 and continues AU from there.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Obviously, the characters aren't mine. For the sake of my story, Violet never spoke to Matthew in his room about Mary.

* * *

The music played sweetly from the gramophone while Matthew and Mary danced in the foyer. The steps were simple, but the two moved so gracefully they hardly seemed like separate steps at all.

"We were a show that flopped," said Mary.

"Oh Mary, I am so sorry. Do you know how sorry I am?"

"Don't be. It was no one's fault. Or if it was it was mine."

"I suppose that story has ended. I'm marrying Lavinia, you're marrying Carlisle, and we've managed to remain friends." He tried his best to hide the disappointment in his voice, but his sad eyes betrayed him.

"Yes, it's all been very civil, hasn't it?" She smiled, consciously ignoring his eyes and determined to keep the conversation pleasant.

"So have you and Sir Richard set a date yet?"

"Not yet, but he's already bought Haxby, that awful, gaudy estate near Downton." She had to stop her eyes from rolling at the thought.

"You don't like the idea?"

"I suppose it's not so bad. I'll be close to Downton and heaven knows the house is large enough. Sir Richard and I will hardly have to spend a minute in the same room together. And he's got his newspapers; we may even go days without each other's company." As soon as she said it she knew it was a mistake. She had revealed too much already and couldn't bear the thought of Matthew pitying her. Still, it was too late to take it back now.

"Are you happy with him, Mary?"

She thought for a moment. "Sir Richard can give me power and a position. I suppose don't have the right to be unhappy."

They remained silent for a moment, the music still playing lightly in the background. Matthew's brow was crinkled in thought, as though he was wrestling with his own thoughts.

When he finally broke the silence, his internal conflict became clear. "I know it's none not my business, but…do you love him?"

She sighed in frustration. "Not everyone can be a romantic, Matthew! Not everyone gets to marry for love! I wish I could say differently, but that is not the world we live in."

"What are you going on about, Mary? You know as well as I do that you can marry anyone you wish."

"Not anyone," she replied, her eyes pointedly locking with his. "In any case, I'm afraid that was the old Mary. The new one has far fewer prospects and isn't getting any younger."

"I do hate to hear you talk like that. I just want to see you happy."

She knew he was telling the truth. She knew he really did wish only the best for her. The thought alone was enough to break her heart. He was so good and so sweet, in spite of all they'd been through and all the heartache she had caused them both. Her smile slowly began to wane.

"Don't worry about me; I'm never down for long."

He gave her a skeptical look, but did not push the subject. "You know I'm glad to hear it. It's getting late. I should probably go check on Mother and Lavinia; make sure they're not ready to go."

She watched him turn to walk away. His fiancé would be waiting; the fiancé he would be marrying in only a few days. Her dear Matthew would be a married man, never knowing what her pride would never permit her heart to tell. She felt a desperation come over her, realizing it may be the last time she saw him before the wedding.

"Wait! There's something I need to say to you. I know I shouldn't. I know it doesn't matter and I know I don't have the right. I'm afraid you'll think me very forward and this is all against my better judgment, but…"

"What is it, Mary?" He walked back to her and smiled warmly.

She hesitated. Her heart was racing, her palms were sweating, and her all the sense she was screaming at her stop. Still, she continued, the point of no return had already passed. "You're right, I don't love Sir Richard. I stay with him because…because it doesn't matter to me that I don't love him."

"I imagine love isn't always the deciding factor when it comes to marriage, but I always thought you were warmer than that."

"Then you're the only one," she nervously smiled back at him. It was much too late to turn back now. She could feel tears well her eyes, but willed her voice to remain steady. "Please, let me finish."

He nodded.

"I have been called many things, but never sentimental. I never thought I was but…you see, the reason it doesn't matter to me, the reason I stay with him is because I'm settling. If I broke our engagement and married the richest, most handsome duke in England, he would still only be second best. No matter what, I'll always be settling."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

Why would he understand? She hadn't said anything clearly. Taking a deep breath, she met his puzzled gaze with her tearful eyes. If she did not say this now, then it would never be said.

"The truth is…if I live a thousand years, I will never love anyone the way that I love you, Matthew Crawley." He was silent. Panic set in and she now felt his blue eyes to be more piercing than ever. If she did not look away, they would surely burn right through her. "And I know that you don't feel the same, and I know I had no right to…"

Before she could complete her thought, Matthew's lips were on hers. Their bodies were flush together and his strong arms wrapped around her waist in a tight embrace. The kiss was filled with so much passion, so much longing, that Mary's knees went weak. She held on to his neck, her fingers messing his neatly combed hair, eliciting a small whimper from him. She opened her mouth slightly, granting his eager tongue entry. It was her turn to whimper as their tongues frantically glided past each other.

Just then, they were interrupted by a voice entering the room. "I certainly hope I'm not interrupting anything."

* * *

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Obviously I don't own the characters.

* * *

They separated faster than Mary had ever moved in her life and stared wide-eyed at the intruder.

"Richard! I didn't know you were at Downton. Were we expecting you tonight?" She could feel her whole body stiffen. How could such a wonderful moment have ended so badly?

"It is apparent to me that you were not." His eyes were cold, fists were clenched, and knuckles were white as he watched them both.

Matthew cleared his throat nervously, attempting to muster an apology, an explanation, or perhaps some mystic reasoning that could justify why he had had his hands and lips all over Sir Richard's fiancé.

"Sir Richard, I can…" His voice was shaky. Mary was sure he could not have planned any words beyond those spoken.

"Mr. Crawley, I think you'll agree that right now you could have nothing to say to me. You'll understand I would like to speak to my fiancé alone. Besides, I'm sure you have more suitable places to be. Won't Miss Swire be wondering where you've been?" He edges of his mouth turned up slightly, as though he were fighting a grin.

Just like that, Matthew awoke and remembered his own fiancé. His expression glazed over; the full realization of his betrayal overcame him.

"Quite right," he muttered, staring at the floor. "I should see how Lavinia is doing. If you'll both excuse me."

Mary waited until she was sure Matthew was out of earshot. She did not want him to hear the fallout of their uncontrolled longing; he would be feeling guilty enough. Sir Richard paced menacingly in front of her and she braced herself for his inevitable eruption.

"I'm very sorry, Richard. I don't know what came over me. It won't happen ever again." There was no justification and no explanation that could be provided and she saw no use in insulting him by trying to fabricate one.

"You're damn right it won't!" A vein protruded from his forehead and he grabbed her arm, pulling her so they were mere inches apart. "Are you trying to humiliate me?!"

"Please stop. You're hurting me." She steeled herself in an effort to hide the pain, but winced as his strong hand pressed itself into her small arm. Her reaction prompted him to reluctantly let go and return his irate pacing.

"How did you think I'd react?! I've got the right to be angry! You told me. I asked you and you told me that were not in love with him! Was it a lie?"

"I understand if you want to break our engagement." She consciously avoided the question.

"I see. You would like that, wouldn't you? That way you'd be free to run to your precious Matthew." He paused for a moment, silently contemplating the possibilities. "No. I will still have you. I'll not suffer any further embarrassment over this. My competitors would salivate at the thought. I can only imagine how the headlines would read. 'Earl's Daughter Jilts Newspaper Mogul for Country Solicitor'. No, that would not do."

Mary became indignant at his flippant attitude. She knew was wrong to kiss Matthew, but Richard found it much too simple to dismiss him. He was no longer the young middle class solicitor Mary had met all those years ago; he had grown into the man she loved.

She locked eyes with Richard, matching his frigid eyes with her own. "Really? What it if read that she jilted this newspaper mogul for the future Earl of Grantham? Would that be more tolerable for you?"

A malicious smile slowly curled on his lips. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Mary, but isn't this the same future earl who is engaged to a woman that is not you? I'll admit I never thought I'd ever witness what I did. Everyone deems Matthew to be a man of unwavering honor and integrity. How wrong they all are!"

"You should not speak ill of him, it would not have happened if I hadn't provoked him," she said, ever at Matthew's defense.

"I'm sure you're not in any position to dictate what I should and should not say. What else would you call a man who promises marriage to one woman while creating vulgar displays with another? Still, I suppose I can't be too surprised. We both know what kind of woman you are."

She started toward him, enraged that he would openly insult his own fiancé with this intimate detail. Worse even, she knew he would never release the weapon she had grudgingly given him.

"Bear in mind, I am not yet Lady Mary Carlilse, nor do I have to be! You say you'll still have me, but what makes you so sure that I'll have you? Did it occur to you that I might be the one wanting to break our understanding?"

"You're not serious," he scoffed. "May I remind you have given me information that will ruin you?"

"There's no need, I haven't forgotten. How could I when you hold it over me at every chance? I'm beginning to think I'd prefer ruin."

"Would you? You're telling me that you would prefer the life of a social pariah? A life where any friend or acquaintance you've ever made will scorn you and those don't will only refrain out of pity? You will be the object of the harshest gossip and ridicule. Every time you walk into a silent room you will wonder if your presence silenced it. This and so much more could you look forward too."

Though it pained her to admit it, she knew he was right. Society would never accept her and the life she knew would be drastically different, if not entirely over. She could have no hope of a good marriage and gentlemen would certainly not call on her. True, the war had brought many changes, but none would save her from this doom.

"And you would do it?" Her defiant voice became small.

"Believe me when I tell you I would not hesitate. Furthermore, I assume you've not told your precious Matthew about the late Mr. Pamuk. It's just that he seems to think so highly of you. I can't imagine what he'll think when he learns about your secret impurity. How quickly do you imagine you'll fall from that pedestal?"

She could no longer contain herself. Wet tears rolled down her cheeks. "Why are you saying this? I knew that you were stern, but I know now that you are also terribly cruel!"

"I'm hardly being cruel, Mary. I just want our marriage to be a success. Is that such a crime?" His hand reached to her cheek, attempting to wipe away her tears, but she pulled away.

"You want our marriage to be a success? This is what your threats are meant to accomplish?!"

"I've also been giving Haxby some thought. Perhaps living so close to Downton is not the best option for us," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll continue construction on it for now so I can sell at a profit, but when I go up to London next month I'll make inquiries about houses available."

"London?"

"You can't possibly think I'd be pleased being Mr. Crawley's neighbor."

Not long ago, she would have been ecstatic at the prospect of living in London among the fast-paced commotion of the city, but now the same prospect was devastating.

"My family lives here. It's the only home I've ever known! Matthew is part of the family, whether you find it pleasing or not. You can't think you can keep me away from my family."

"Not forever, no. But at first, while you get adjusted to our new life…think hard about the alternative, Mary."

She had thought about, more times than he knew. Richard was her only chance at a good marriage, especially once he exposed her secret. It was her punishment. If she had not ruined herself in the first place, then he could not ruin her as he now threatened.

"Alright, I'll marry you, but on one condition." He grumbled, but she continued. "You cannot keep me from my family. If Mama, Papa, or any my sisters ask me to Downton, I will come with or without you."

"And Mr. Crawley?"

"He won't live at Downton once he and Lavinia marry. I believe he means to go back to his old firm in Manchester." She refused to let him see her grief.

He thought for a moment, but ultimately conceded. "Very well, then. Your condition is agreeable enough."

"Are we done here?" she asked triumphantly. "I think I'll go up to bed."

Sir Richard opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by sudden presence of Mrs. Crawley.

"Mary, please," she began, but paused when she noticed Sir Richard. "Oh, Sir Richard. I'm sorry to intrude. I didn't realize you were here."

"Yes, it seems to be the theme of the evening," he complained, but Mrs. Crawley ignored his glowering. She had more important concerns than Sir Richard's displeasure.

"Mary, please come quickly! It's Lavinia, I'm afraid she's taken a turn and she's asking after you."

Mary heard him mutter "can't imagine why" and shot him a glare.

She turned her attention back to Cousin Isobel. "Have you called for Dr. Clarkson?"

"Yes, he and Matthew are with her now. Oh please come, she may not have much longer." Isobel's expression was painted with worry and lament. Mary quickly followed her up the stairs.

"Mary," she heard Sir Richard call up. "Would you please tell Carson to prepare a guest room? I'm afraid I also didn't bring a valet, but I'm sure he'll be able to take care of me."

"Sorry, darling, Carson has been taken ill."

"Taken ill? For God's sake, what am I to do now?" She couldn't help but roll her eyes as she continued up the stairs.

"You'll just have to find someone else to put you to bed tonight, perhaps someone who'll fix you some warm milk and read you a fairy story." There was no response, but she could imagine him seething to himself.

Isobel made no comment about the conversation she'd overheard between Mary and Sir Richard. Mary didn't know if it was due to compassion or indifference, but she was thankful nonetheless. Without a word, they walked down the hall to Lavinia's room until Isobel finally spoke.

"I need to prepare for what you are about to see. Lavinia has a taken a turn for the worst. There's a real possibility she will not survive the night."

"What? How?"

"Dr. Clarkson will be able to explain it better than I, but we mustn't keep her waiting." Isobel opened the door, but Mary was hesitant to enter. Surely these would not be Lavinia's last moments. She was too young, even younger than Mary.

The atmosphere around her darkened as soon as she stepped across the threshold. The air was thick with despair. Lavinia looked so small surrounded by the large bed. Her skin was sallow and layered with sweat, presumably from the high fever. Every breath was a struggle.

"Mary?" Her voice was weak, so much so that Mary was hardly sure she'd spoken at all.

"Yes, I'm here dear," she responded, taking the younger woman's hand in her own.

"Matthew?" Mary hadn't noticed his presence until Lavinia called for him. His face was wet and his eyes were red. He had been standing the corner facing away from them before he came to his fiancé's side.

"What is it, Lavinia? My darling?" Mary gave him Lavinia's hand, allowing him access.

"I want…" she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "I want you both to promise me…" another labored breath, "promise me that you'll be happy."

"My love, you must know that's not possible without you. Why can't you stay? Please stay with me! You're going to be alright!" Matthew became increasingly frantic, causing Lavinia to pant and choke.

"Matthew, come away," said Dr. Clarkson. "You're only distressing her." He tugged at the younger man, who instinctively went back to his corner.

"Mary?" she felt Lavinia's hand touch her own.

"What is it, dear?"

Her eyes began to water, but she looked at Mary with solemn honesty. "Please take care of Matthew for me."

"Lavinia, I…" Mary could not believe what she was hearing. What did she mean? How should Mary take care of him?

"Please…please do this for me." There was no way to resist the woman's pleas, not when the end seemed so close.

"I will," Mary replied with a small smile. "There's no need to worry."

Lavinia seemed calm, if only for that moment. Not a minute had passed when Mary saw her take a turn much worse than before. Her every breath became a sporadic gasp, as though her lungs could no longer fill.

"Dr. Clarkson!"

He came quickly to her side, but it was no use. "I'm afraid it won't be long now."

Mary backed away, giving Matthew the opportunity to say goodbye. He spoke to her quietly between sobs, but Mary was not listening. She continued to watch the girl in horror. Her tiny body began to twist and wrench in one last attempt to escape death's icy grip. But there was no escape. She had been dragged too far past the thin veil separating the living from the afterlife. Her skin turned gray and her eyes lost their light. One long gasp and her body fell limp. She was gone.

Isobel reach over and closed Lavinia's eyes. "My dear, sweet girl," she said. "'May hosts of angels sing you to sleep.'"

A heavy, mournful silence engulfed the room and no one dared speak. After all this, what could be said?

"I came to see her…she was fine," Matthew's shaky voice finally broke the silence. "She spoke to me and she was fine! How did this happen?"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Crawley," answered Dr. Clarkson. "I'm afraid that's the way the Spanish flu operates. It can come on suddenly. There was really nothing to be done."

"I can't believe this is happening. We were going to be married in a matter of days and now…" Once again he took his place by her side and wept silently.

Mary looked again at the young woman. Youth, alone, came with no promise of any life ahead. An entire generation learned this harsh lesson during the war. Still, the war was over now and the frail, lifeless girl was no soldier. Illness was an unseen enemy that could not be combated and much more indiscriminate than a bullet. Mary had seen too many deaths in too few years and knew that life was fickle, fleeting, and could not always be compelled to linger. Nevertheless, there was nothing more to be done and Mary was resigned to follow Isobel's lead go to bed.

The next day came and the atmosphere surrounding Downton was bereft. Sir Richard, perhaps realizing he had no place among the mourning, went into Rippon for the day to do business. Mary spent the morning in silence, still distraught about all of the last night's events, from her kiss with Matthew to Lavinia's tragic passing. Deciding fresh air would help to sooth her, she took a walk to her favorite bench under her favorite tree along the main path to ponder all that had occurred in such a short time.

"Matthew?" It appeared he had the same idea. He sat at the same bench Mary was headed toward. "Matthew," she continued. "I didn't expect to find you here. I'm so sorry about Lavinia."

He remained motionless, staring blankly into the space in front of him. "Mary, please. You can say nothing that will ease my pain."

"I know. I miss her too. She was much, much too young," she lamented.

His body became visibly tense as he turned to face her. He looked sick with grief. "Stop, please stop. You know as well as I do what we were doing while she was on her death bed!"

"I'm sorry." But Mary knew all along that he would cling to their inappropriate kiss and associate it with Lavinia's death. Though she hoped he would not, she also knew that he was a man of honor and would have a hard time forgiving himself for this most dire betrayal.

"I blame myself, not you."

"No, don't. I couldn't stand it if you did." She needed to comfort him. His loss was so much greater than hers.

He paused for moment, deep in thought. "I know you mean well," he finally said, "but I want to be alone right now."

"I understand. It's just that…"

He interrupted her mid sentence. "I'm sorry, Mary, but it hurts me to look at you right now. I know it shouldn't and I know that is not your fault, but I can't pretend it's not true. I look at your face and all I see is my dishonesty. She trusted me with all her heart and I deceive her, even at the end."

"I see." Mary felt tears roll down her cheeks. It had become much too familiar a sensation, so much so she was surprised she had any tears left. Before the nightmare began, Mary's evening with him had been so magical. She had declared her undying love and his response affirmed that the feeling was mutual, but somehow at the moment, just a few hours later, it had been destroyed. Her heart broke; Matthew may never forgive her. The thought made her sick to her stomach. She felt that too familiar crack in her voice and she spoke up again. "I think Mama was looking for me. I better go see what she wants."

Making her fictional excuses, she walked back to house, straight to room where she wept herself to sleep.

* * *

To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to updated! Real life got in the way, as it sometimes does. Now, on the with the fic.

* * *

Some months had passed since Lavnia's death and Matthew was back at Downton for the first time since the funeral. Mary's father insisted that Matthew visit the estate and stay at Downton for the duration of his time there so that he may continue his education in earldom. Coincidentally, Sir Richard was also present for the first night of Matthew's stay at Downton. Mary had long since learned not to believe in coincidences, especially when they concerned Sir Richard. No, he was there because he'd heard that Matthew would be there. He did what he could to monopolize Mary's time and while the family was drinking wine in the sitting room before dinner, he insisted on speaking to her in the corner of the room instead of joining the party.

"I thought you said he'd be living in Manchester," Richard said, glowering at Matthew.

"And so he is," Mary replied.

"Then what, pray tell, is he doing here?"

"Visiting. It's what people do with their relations. What else would he be doing here?" It took all her self control to keep from rolling her eyes. She did not want to cause a scene or draw attention to them and Sir Richard wouldn't have let her small defiance go unacknowledged.

"I have a few scenarios imagined," he said, obviously alluding to their kiss.

"Then your imagination has run off with itself. Papa invited him to stay here so he can learn more about the management of the estate. That is all."

"Is that right? And I take it he is still unattached?"

"I haven't heard anything to the contrary. What does it matter, anyway, if I'm engaged to marry you?"

"Surely you can understand what little that does to reassure me."

"No. What should reassure you is that I've given you a powerful weapon to keep me in line. You don't need to concern yourself; it will serve to ensure my fidelity."

"Oh, spare me the dramatics. Don't speak to me like that, Mary!" He began to raise his voice.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm the evil villain that has you tied to the railroad tracks. Don't you love me?"

"Oh Richard, we're not that sort of people. I wouldn't want to start talking about moon or June when you know it's not necessary." He huffed as he heard her echo his words, clearly irritated they were being used against him.

Suddenly, his face brightened. "I think it's time we set a proper date for the wedding, don't you?"

"Well, I…" Mary's face showed quite the opposite reaction.

"You must admit we've delayed long enough. I'm closing a sale on Haxby, the house in London will soon be ready, and I don't see any reason to delay."

"It's just that…"

"Oh, but of course _you _do. Go one then, what is it this time? Is Edith running off with the hall boy? Is it your father's birthday? Has a housemaid fallen ill? Really, Mary, I'm growing increasingly tired of your excuses!"

She regained her composure, reverting to the cold expression she had grown accustomed to wearing when speaking with her fiancé. "Very well, then. February, we shall be married in February."

"February! That's still four months off!" Again, he raised his voice. Mary knew the rest of the room was aware of them, but did her best to ignore it.

"Richard, think on it. If we marry any sooner, we'll be on honeymoon for the Christmas holiday and New Year's Day. We can't have that, can we? I'd hate to miss the festivities. February means we'll have sufficient time after the new year to plan the wedding. Really, I'm just being practical."

"It's set then. I feel I should warn you that I am quickly losing my patience. You would be wise not to postpone again." She knew he would not argue, her reasoning was far too logical. Still, he was becoming increasingly impatient and she knew he would not tolerate another postponement.

The party headed to the dining room and Isobel gave Mary a knowing look as she passed. Mary knew she had not forgotten the conversation she overheard just months ago. Her eyes were sympathetic because, after their display just then, it was clear to any observer that their relationship had not improved.

Mary sat next to Richard, but across from Matthew. She was pleased at their close proximity. Their last interaction had been less than pleasant, to say the least, and she was eager to rebuild their friendship.

"Matthew, I feel as though we haven't seen you here in so long! How are you getting on in Manchester?" She was eager to hear about what he had been up all those months he was out of contact.

"I'm sorry it has been so long since my last visit," he replied. "I do miss Downton very much. I'm afraid the firm in Manchester has kept me quite busy, but it's nice to get back to practicing law."

"And Downton misses you, my boy!" Robert chimed in. "It's really a shame you can't visit here more often."

"Indeed," Sir Richard agreed. "But I suppose when you don't own your own business…that is, when you work as someone's underling, you cannot simply come and go as you please."

Mary cringed. She hadn't expected her fiancé to be nice to Matthew, but his overt rudeness was embarrassing.

"I'm a visiting partner, which is the definition of come and go as I please," Matthew said, firmly.

Richard did not back down. "Visiting partner? Is that a clever euphemism for 'middle class solicitor'?"

This last remark was too much for the other diners to stand. Violet, in particular, addressed him with much indignation. "Sir Richard! Mr. Crawley is a member of this family and my son's heir and, in the future, I would appreciate if you spoke to him as such."

"I apologize if you thought me rude, Lady Granthan. I spend so much time with my newspapers that I forget to censor the harsh businessman in me," he smiled as innocently as he could, but even then it seemed like more of a smirk.

"Is that so? I wasn't aware you had censors to speak of." Violet showed she was no stranger to discourteous exchanges.

Cora was quick to change the subject. "Matthew, Robert has so much he'd like to show you while you're here. I hope he doesn't wear you out too much, you may not want to come back."

"Nonsense, Cousin Cora. Nothing could keep me away." He looked to Mary with a smile. She could feel her face become warm and knew she was blushing, but couldn't bear to break contact with his beautiful blue eyes. She had almost forgotten how expressive they could be. Finally, she spoke again.

"It's really a shame we can't open the shoot while Matthew's here. Oh, Papa, I'm sure the gentlemen would so enjoy a shoot!"

"I'm sure they would, but you know we don't open the shoot until New Year's Day. We'll all have to wait to enjoy it until then," he replied.

"So you think me a gentleman?" Matthew asked her quietly. "I seem to remember a time some years ago when you thought I was a sea monster. I'm glad to hear my status has improved."

"You take my all my words much too seriously, Matthew," she replied, with a smile.

In that small moment, with that small exchanged, Mary felt as though she had been transported to a time that seemed so long ago. Before all the melodrama and heartache, before the fiancés, before the regret— when everything appeared so simple. One look at Matthew and she knew the same thoughts were passing through his mind.

"Mary and I have an announcement to make." Richard's voice broke the spell. He must have heard their short exchange; he must have seen their nostalgia.

"We do?" Mary knew what his announcement was, but silently hoped she was wrong. He was staking his claim on her and there nothing could be done to stop him.

"We've set a date for the wedding," he announced with a smile. "February will be when we finally wed and I can assure you all that this date is for certain." He looked at her firmly while saying those last words, consciously getting his point across.

His announcement, which he was so proud to convey, was met with silence. The diners shared wide-eyed looks among each other, mouths opening and closing as though they were about to say something, but thought better of it. Finally, after the most awkward seconds Mary had ever experienced, the silence was broken.

"Well if you assure us, it must be true," said Violet, failing to keep the disdain from her tone.

Her father found his voice, as he so often did when trying to distract guests from deciphering his mother's rude comments. "Congratulations. I know it will have been a long time coming."

"Yes, congratulations," Isobel said, but only with half smile. She looked to Mary, who also donned a half smile. "I'm sure you have much to plan and you'll have a full four months to do so. How exciting."

Mary glanced around the table. She had never seen so many forced smiles all together, but seeing Richard's self-satisfied smirk told her that he was unaware of the smiles' true meanings. When her gaze passed to Matthew, she saw no such expression. His was quite the opposite. The news had put a knot in his stomach. Only when he met Mary's sympathetic gaze did he struggle with a small smile.

Dinner was soon over and the ladies headed toward the sitting room while the men stayed behind, as was customary. Just as Mary walked out of the room she saw Richard approach Matthew and whisper something she could not hear. They walked away together, but she could not understand why. Still, despite her concern, there was nothing she could think to do. She could not leave the ladies to join the gentlemen in any discreet way and was resigned to keep moving, mentally reviewing possible scenarios to explain the strange behavior. None ended well.

"Mary, you must be so relieved to have a date set for the wedding," Isobel asked as she cornerd her in the sitting room.

"Umm…yes. Indeed, it will be a relief to have everything settled." Again she forced a smile. It was becoming too familiar a reflex.

"Do you know where you'll honeymoon?"

"No, that has yet to be decided." Mary could barely focus the conversation. Her thoughts were racing. Richard and Matthew alone together could lead nowhere pleasant. They had no good times between them to speak of, nothing for them to reminisce over. She had to get to them before their antagonism exploded with her as the debris.

"That time of year you won't get the…" Isobel began.

"I'm very sorry, Cousin Isobel," she interrupted. "Please excuse me."

As she rushed into the hall she heard loud noises coming from another room. Without hesitating, she opened the door. Richard noticed her immediately, but Matthew was far too busy yelling at the other man.

"How can you tell such slanderous lies about the woman that you claim to love?! Have you no shame?! Have you no honor?!" Mary immediately knew what they were arguing about. There was no longer a question in her mind, though she wished there was.

"I have no reason to lie to you, Mr. Crawley," came Richard's calm voice.

"You have every reason to lie to me! You want to keep me away from her!" Matthew's face was red with anger and his eyes flamed.

"Just ask her, she's right here." They both turned to her, Matthew for the first time noticing she was there. "Mary, I've just shared the details of your involvement with the late Mr. Pamuk with Mr. Crawley, but he doesn't seem to believe me. Would you please validate the story?"

Her heart fell. He had betrayed her secret to the one person she was really trying to keep it from. Both men were staring at her, waiting for her to speak. One was waiting for her defense, the other for her confession. She swallowed the knot in her throat and braced herself. "What? Why would you do this? I've already said I would marry you! For heaven's sake, we even set a date!"

"I know you both have a fondness for each other. I thought he should know who you really are before any…improper feelings progressed." Richard retained his composure throughout the whole ordeal. He had no reason to lose it. He was in control, tugging at their strings like marionettes and Mary hated him for it. She knew was a master manipulator, but she never imagined he would go this far.

"Just tell him it's not true, Mary." Matthew was pleading with her, holding on to the image he had of her until his knuckles were white. She could tell it was an image he was already beginning to doubt.

"I can't, Matthew." Tears streamed down her cheeks; they could no longer be contained. She was now standing in a moment she had tried so very hard to prevent. The thought that Matthew would learn of her impurity and realize she was not the woman he imagined was difficult enough to bear. Now it had become reality. She chanced a glimpse a glimpse at him and saw he was now sitting, staring into nothing, entirely in shock.

When he at last spoke, he quietly asked "so…it's true? You never told me. I…I don't understand."

"I never told you because I never wanted you to look at me as you're looking at me now."

"And how is that?"

How was it? What was the expression he had on his face? Yes, he was shocked, that was plain to see. But there was something else in his eyes. It was very thing Mary had so dreaded and it was becoming more apparent with every moment that passed. The more time he had to process the situation, the worse it was.

"Utter disappointment."

His silence only served to affirm her statement. He did not try to deny it and Mary could not blame him. She could not expect anything more.

"Perhaps it's time to rejoin the party. I'm sure our dear Mr. Crawley has much to think over." The room was once again reminded of Sir Richard's unwelcome presence. Mary shot him a look that would have made a less arrogant man cower in fear, but he ignored it and attempted to put his arm around her shoulders. She angrily swatted him away.

"Don't touch me! You had no right to tell."

"I had every right to tell!"

"I'm afraid I'm not quite in a social mood. Excuse me, I'm going to bed." She gave one last look to Matthew, who was still sitting in the same place she had left him, still thinking, still staring at the same nothing.

"Very well, darling. I'll make your excuses to the group," said Richard.

Mary and Richard walked away in opposite directions, her to her bedroom and him to rejoin the ladies. She didn't really care where he was headed. Nothing he could do or say could make the situation any worse for her. She collapsed onto her bed and wept as she thought of Matthew's reaction, his sadness. She didn't know how she could ever face him again or if he would want to face her. She was certain of one thing, if nothing else. His look of disappointment was etched in her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that face. Still, it was done and nothing could be undone. At last she resolved to fall asleep and dream of better days.

* * *

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Chapter 4 finally up, enjoy!

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Mary tossed and turned in her bed, but, try as she might, she could not get to sleep. Who could blame her? After the evenings events it was a miracle she could even close her eyes. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she resolved to fall asleep, but surely it was long enough to know that sleep would not be coming to her. She pulled on her robe and left her room. Downton had many libraries and sitting rooms; she was bound an amusement to help her pass the time. As she wandered into the library, she noticed that the fire had already been lit, creating a soft glow around it. It seemed that she was not the only insomniac that night. She was shocked to see Matthew sitting on the sofa, looking as sullen as ever.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize anyone was here. I'll just go."

"No, please stay...if you want," he replied. His eyes drifted down her body and she suddenly became aware of their clothing or, more accurately, the lack thereof. He was wearing a thin blue layer of pajamas and she was in her white nightgown. She self consciously cinched her robe.

He regained his composure and continued. "Though, I understand if you leave; I know this isn't exactly appropriate."

"I'm already a ruined woman, what can this do to my reputation? Really, I think it's you who should be concerned to be alone at night with a woman of ill-repute. You're taking quite the risk," she jested, smiling at him. He did not return her smile. She took a seat on the other side of the sofa and attempted to change the subject. "Did you get the hall boy to build the fire?"

"No," he smiled bitterly. "Middle class solicitors must learn to build their own fires."

Mary's mind went back to the particularly horrendous dinner earlier that night with Sir Richard and her family. She was humiliated by how beastly her fiancé had acted, especially toward Matthew. He even had the audacity to call him a "middle class solicitor" in front of the whole table.

"I'm sorry he said that, I don't think he meant it." She hated apologizing for him; she knew it would be something she would have to become accustomed to, which made her hate it that much more.

"He did, but you don't have to apologize for him; there's no reason you should have to."

She felt as though he knew what she was thinking. He must have realized how much she resented his behavior and how much she resented making excuses for him.

"I was just thinking, the last time you were here. You said you couldn't bear the sight of me. I gather you'll feel the same now." His words when they last spoke had haunted her for months.

"I'm sorry I ever said that. After Lavinia died, I was just so... I was out of my mind with grief. And guilt."

"I want you know how very sorry I am. She was a wonderful person."

"Thank you," he replied with a small smile.

"I'm also sorry about the position I put you in right before she…It was wrong of me." She needed to say it, if for no other reason than to alleviate her own guilt.

"Stop, don't apologize, please. We both know it wasn't just you."

"Now that you know the truth about me, I'm sure you regret it even more." He must regret it so much more. To be burdened with guilt for kissing another woman was one thing. To find that the other woman was already so disgraced was another.

"How did everything become so disastrous? It's difficult for me to think back to when I first came here, to when I first met you, to when we first kissed. It was so long ago. It almost seems like another world." She wasn't sure if he was avoiding the topic purposefully or if he was simply speaking his mind. She went along with it regardless.

"It is another world," she replied. "We were different people then, so young and carefree."

"'Carefree' is relative, I suppose. Back then I didn't think myself so carefree, what with Downton being thrust upon me. But, when I think on it, after the War, after so much loss, all those worries seem so small."

"There are so many things I wish I'd done differently."

"Like what?" Her words shook him out of his introspection and his attention was back on her.

"For starters, I wish I'd accepted your first proposal." It was the first time she'd said it out loud and she blushed slightly when she heard it.

He let out a small chuckle. "You did accept my proposal, but I was too stubborn to accept you."

"Then if that was not to be, then I wish I had told you how I felt when you were on the Somme. Carson told me too. He said that if something…if something happened to you and you…without knowing how I felt, I would regret it forever. I tried to tell you, but I was…I guess I was afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"

"Of getting my heart broken again. You were in love with and engaged to someone else, I didn't think it mattered how I felt. How would you have reacted? What would have happened if I told you?" It was something she'd always wondered, but never thought she would ask.

He thought for a moment. His brow furrowed, as though trying place himself in the mindset of the Captain Crawley of times gone by. "I…I don't know, to be honest. I can't say what I would have done."

There was a pause as they both tried to cope with the things remembered. As the saying goes, "time heals all wounds" and Mary's relationship with Matthew was no exception. All the problems they had faced before seemed unimportant. Still, there was no saying regarding what affect time had on regrets. From her own experience, Mary thought it only made them worse.

"I would have stayed with you, you know." Mary's quiet voice brought them back to reality. "When you were injured and the doctors said you would never walk again, I would have gladly left Sir Richard if I thought you would have me."

"But things are more complicated now, aren't they?"

Her silence was enough to affirm his statement.

"You know, I remember that weekend so well," he said, "the weekend of Mr. Pamuk."

She winced. "Do you? What do you remember?"

"I was following you around like a puppy and you were paying no attention. I suppose that was our usual interaction at the time."

She cringed because he spoke the truth. She treated him so dreadfully back then. "No, I was much too busy making a fool of myself to pay any attention to you. I was a ridiculous girl who flirted her way to ruin."

"I do hate to hear you talk like that."

"Why? You and I both know it's true. I never considered the consequence of any action until that point, but by that time it was already too late."

"You didn't love him, did you?" His eyes looked at her fearfully. It was something that had clearly been on his mind since he heard the news.

"No," she said. She thought for a moment. "I just…thought I wanted a thrill, I suppose. Everything just happened so fast. Now I think I hate him. Tell me, are you very disappointed in me?"

"No, I don't think I have any right to be. I am, however, appalled that you would let Sir Richard wield such power over you. Live your life on your own terms, not his. I know you, Mary. You're strong."

"I'm afraid I must disappoint you again. I'm not strong, not about this." Tears were already threatening to form in her eyes.

Matthew shook his head in disagreement. "The Mary I know would never let herself be so defeated. The Mary I know would fight."

"The Mary you know _has_ been defeated!" She stood up emphatically, determined to shake Matthew's high regard for her. She did not see how it could do either of them very good. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Mary…" he began, but she would not hear it.

"Matthew, I have been keeping this secret for almost 8 years! You could have no conception of how difficult it has been. It has been torture!"

"But I can't understand. How can you stay with such a man?"

"He will ruin me if I don't stay."

"All the more reason to leave! Is the threat of public ruin really worth all this? Can you really see yourself at his side for the rest of your life?"

Her eyes filled with exhausted grief. It seemed that there was nothing she could say to make him understand. A woman such as herself, a woman who had let herself be seduced and surrendered to that seduction without so much as a promise of marriage, a woman such as that had minimal chance of a good match. For too long she had gotten away with it, fooled all those around her into thinking she was still virtuous. Now, the tax had been levied and her payment was Sir Richard. There could be no way around it.

"What else can I do? He knows my secret and yet his is still willing to marry me! If I refuse him, he will publish and I will have no hope of a good marriage." She fell back onto the sofa and her tears made good on their threat. Her cheeks were streaked with wet drops that would not end.

There was a long silence. Matthew sat down next to her, thinking. Mary looked at his beautiful blue eyes squinted under his furrowed brow. Perhaps he had finally realized that his impulsive suggestions that she leave her fiancé were no good against her practical mindset. Instead, he inched closer to her and held her hands in his.

"A few months ago you told me you loved me. Was it true? Do you still?"

"It doesn't matter. You must forget about me."

"How can I? You're all I ever think about." When he locked eyes with her, it was as though he had opened a window to his soul. He looked at her with such love, such adoration, that Mary swore she could see stars.

"Please don't say such things," she said as she looked away from his intense gaze. "You're only breaking my heart that much more."

"I don't want to break your heart." He paused for a moment, looking at her intensely. "I want you leave Sir Richard and marry me."

To say she was shocked was an understatement. "What?" was all she could muster.

"If you say no and you mean it, then of course I will never bother you with it again. If the war, if Lavinia, if any of it has taught me anything it's that life is uncertain. I don't know how I would have reacted if you told me you loved me during the war, just as I don't know how you'll react now. Still, I can't just stand by without fighting for you; I can't go my whole life knowing that you married him when I said nothing. I won't do it."

"Matthew, you don't mean it. You haven't thought it through. Think of what you'll be marrying in to! We'll be engulfed in scandal."

"Please stop, don't think about the scandal. None of that matters. What matters is this. Do you still love me? Because I love you. I have always loved you."

"I'm no good for you," she insisted. "Find someone better and make her happy."

"Anyone else would just be second best; your words, not mine. Tell me the truth. Do you love me?"

"You know I do, there's no use denying it. I've told already told you and nothing has changed."

He grasped her shoulders, his eyes pleading with her to change her mind.

"But those are just words, act on them! Marry me! You said you look back and wish you'd done things differently, but I don't want that to be how you feel in the future. This is that moment, Mary! This is the moment you'll look back to if you say no."

Deep down Mary knew he was right. She would always look back to this moment, the moment she sent him away for good. Still, she couldn't bring herself to accept him. Once the excitement cleared, he would realize his error and resent her for trapping him in her web of scandal.

"Oh, Matthew! I can't," she said softly, her face soaked with tears.

His hands still securely on her shoulders, he pulled her toward him and firmly pressed his lips against hers. She felt his warm body close in around her and she could not help but reciprocate his kiss. Her hands drew him in closer, running up and down his back, feeling the thin fabric of his pajamas. He let out a soft moan and for a split moment, she was brought back into reality.

"Matthew…" she began, but he readily cut her off.

"You can't? You won't." His voice was beginning to crack and his eyes were now brimming with desperate tears. "Don't tell me you don't feel anything when I kiss you. I know my heart skips a beat every time our eyes meet across the room. I know when we kiss I feel alive, like all is possible."

He was still dangerously close to her, so close that she could feel the heat from his body radiating against her. His presence alone was enough to make her feel alive. She thought of his warm embrace and soft lips, knowing that if she moved just one inch closer her body would succumb to the maddening need he created inside her. It was all too much to bear. She leaned in, catching his lips with hers in a tender kiss. He stroked her cheek and looked into her eyes, noses touching. The love that had gone so long unspoken was now the loudest sound of all. It would not be ignored. Finally, she spoke.

"How could I not love you? Sometimes I think my love for you is all that keeps me going."

"Then say yes! If you love me, just say yes," he urged.

"But can we survive the scandal? Will love be enough?"

"Didn't your sister just run off with the chauffer? I really doubt this will topple the house of Crawley. Think of it. You and I together; that's how it always should have been."

She shook her head. "It's too late now. I've given my word to Sir Richard. Years ago I promised him I would marry him. I cannot take that back just because you love me again."

"That would imply that I stopped loving you."

"And we've already set a date; father's going to call on Travis tomorrow."

"No, there's something else," he said, eyeing her suspiciously. "After all we've been through, after years of waiting, this can't be all your worried about."

There was a long pause. He was right; Sir Richard wasn't her only concern. Still, in spite of everything she and Matthew had shared over the years, she could not imagine how to voice her true concern. It was too embarrassing for words.

"It's just..." She didn't want to tell him what had been on her mind. She couldn't possibly discuss it with him, but she couldn't think of an acceptable excuse quickly enough.

"Please tell me, I'm sure it's nothing," he prodded.

"I…um…I'm worried. I'm sorry, but I'm finding this very difficult to say." Her cheeks turned bright pink and her palms began to sweat. She silently begged him to drop the subject.

"What is it? Please try." He would not relent and she could see that the only way to stop the torment was to tell him the truth and share her mortifying concern.

"If, if we were to get married," she began, looking intently at the floor. Surely witnessing his reaction would be the death blow of embarrassment for her. "When we are…_together_…as husband and wife, won't you…well, won't my past upset you? Won't you be thinking about _him_ then?

"You mean Mr. Pamuk?"

She nodded, still afraid to look at him.

"Mary," he chuckled, "I can guarantee that if that scenario ever manifests, _he_ will be the absolute farthest thing from my mind."

His warm smile was comforting, but she wasn't entirely assured. "You say that now, but I'm afraid you'll hate me for it."

"You'll just have to take my word for it. I don't know what more I can do to convince you."

"There's nothing you can do. The timing's never been right for us and now is no exception. This is the price of my mistakes. I must accept it and so must you. This has gone far enough."

Instantly, their warm moment turned cold. She had to end this once and for all, for both their sakes.

"You don't mean that." His voice cracked and she was resolved not to look at him. She had to walk away and looking at his pain would not make hers subside.

"I'm sorry. I should go."

She left Matthew in the library, alone with his thoughts for the second time that night. As she headed back down the long, dark hall toward her room, she told herself it was for the best. She meant it. The sooner she was out of his life, the better. He could move on and forget about her. He would find someone new, bring her to Downton and marry her. The family and village would watch as the new Mrs. Crawley and the future Lady Grantham was crowned.

The thought made her stop in her tracks. Her knees went weak and a lump began to form in her throat. Her Matthew marrying somebody else, in love with somebody else. What had she done? She had given up her only chance at true love, true happiness offered to her with no hidden strings or ultimatums, all because she didn't think she deserved it. In her heart, she knew she would find no joy with anyone but him. The thought of him with someone else, again, was enough jolt her back to reality. Picking up her pace, she walked hurriedly back to the library, determined to take it all back.

"Matthew! Matthew!" There was no answer. The room was empty; there was no one to answer. He was gone; he had no reason to stay any longer. This is how their story would end and there was no coming back from this final rejection. He was likely back in his room, already trying to forget about her.

Suddenly, his head peered out from the foyer. "Mary? Did you call for me?"

"Oh Matthew!" She ran as fast as her legs could carry her and hugged him tightly, unable to contain her joy.

"What is it?" He asked, looking down at her with a cautious smile.

"I spent my whole life building walls around my heart, but you came along and walked right through them. I don't want to live my life regretting what might have been because I was too afraid to take action! I want to look back and know that I loved someone, truly and with all my heart."

Again, tears flowed freely from their eyes, only this time they were tears of joy.

"What do you mean? Don't say it if you don't mean it." She really couldn't blame him for being apprehensive, given their history of marriage proposals and declarations of love. It was her job now to convince him.

"We can't idly stand by and wait for the timing to be right," she admitted. "It may never be right, but that doesn't mean we aren't. I was a fool. Please ask me again."

"Ask you…" again his brow furrowed, but his expression illuminated when he understood her meaning. "Mary Crawley, will you marry me?"

"Yes! If I've ever been sure of anything, it's that I want to spend my life with you, only you."

"Oh, Mary, we're going to be so happy together, you'll see." He pulled her into a short kiss and rested his chin on her head. Mary couldn't help but smile and she snuggled against him.

She let out a content sigh. "I think we already are."

The only thing left to do was inform Sir Richard that his presence would no longer be required at Downton.

* * *

To be continued.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: So sorry that it took me so long to update! Thanks so much for being so patient with me!

* * *

After Matthew and Mary had departed from each other's company and gone back to their own respective rooms, the few hours left until breakfast flew by. In part, Mary wished them to come faster knowing Matthew would be joining them at the breakfast table. Thinking about her new fiancé made her heart jump in excitement. The only problem was the small matter of her other fiancé, Sir Richard. Of course, he would be joining them at the breakfast table as well, but there was no excitement at the thought of that.

"Good morning, milady. Awake already? Did you sleep well?"

"Good morning, Anna. Actually, I couldn't sleep a wink."

"I'm sorry to hear that, milady. I had heard that there was some kind of row in one of the sitting rooms."

"Yes, well, news travels rather quickly in this house. You heard right. Although, what I'm about to tell you I want you to keep between us."

"Of course."

"Mr. Crawley proposed to me last night!" Mary could hardly contain herself; she was smiling from ear to ear.

"Really!?" Anna almost squealed. "And your ladyship accepted?"

"I didn't at first." Mary went on to explain the events that came to pass just hours prior while Anna combed her hair and listened attentively.

"So then…if I understand this correctly, your ladyship has two fiancés?" She asked tentatively, careful not to speak out of turn.

Mary gave an exasperated sigh as her smile faded into worried crinkles on her forehead. "Yes, well that's the downside. Right now I have two fiancés, but I've only got use for one."

"When will you break it off with Sir Richard?"

"After breakfast, I think. There's no use prolonging the inevitable. Besides, I don't want those wedding plans to progress any further than they already have. What do you think?" She longed to hear the maid's opinion on the matter. Though there was always a barrier that existed between them, the barrier of mistress and servant, Mary felt the unmistakable bond of friendship between them, however cautious it was.

"I have to agree on both scores. The sooner Sir Richard is out of the picture, the sooner your Mr. Crawley can be a proper fiancé."

Mary smiled. "I suppose he really is 'my' Mr. Crawley now, isn't he?"

Her stomach did somersaults as she walked down to breakfast. She thought about what she would say to Sir Richard, but with little success. Her mind went blank after "good morning." He would be furious, that she could count on. It was likely he would publish her story despite any plea or bargain she could produce. When she finally arrived at the breakfast table, she was surprised to see that only Sir Richard and Matthew were seated. The two were sitting next to each other, staring daggers under Carson's watchful eye.

"Milady," acknowledged Carson with a tilt of his head.

"Good morning, Carson. Where is everybody today?"

"I'm afraid this is everyone, milady. Lord Grantham has gone into the village for the morning, Lady Edith will be in London for the remainder of the month, and Lady Grantham will not be coming down for breakfast."

"Yes, of course," she said in a daze. In all the excitement, she'd forgotten everyone's plans. She and both her fiancés would be eating alone. "Thank you, Carson."

"My love," said Sir Richard. "Are you well? I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it down at all."

"Yes, quite well," she replied coldly, careful not to show any sign of friendliness. She had not forgotten his dastardly behavior from the night before. Looking at him with fresh eyes, she remembered she had every right to be cold toward him, regardless of what transpired between her and Matthew.

"What are your plans today?" Sir Richard inquired, purposefully ignoring Matthew who was sitting between them at the head of the table.

"Actually, I was thinking of taking a walk in the gardens. I was hoping you would join me," she replied to Sir Richard. She saw Matthew's gaze from the corner of her eye, but resisted the urge to make contact. She didn't have to look at him to know he would be both hurt and confused. After their history, she couldn't blame him for worrying that she might change her mind.

"Is that right? What puts you in such good a humor this morning?" He asked suspiciously.

"What do you mean?" she asked as innocently as she could.

"I think you know what I mean, but in case you are not just pretending to be foolish I will explain myself anyway. Why are you so eager to spend time with me after the row we had last night?"

She suppressed her anger over his condescension. Anger towards him would do nothing to help her cause.

"You disapprove of me wanting to spend time with you?"

"No, I disapprove of your motives."

"My motives? I have no motives to speak of," she replied, mustering the sweetest smile she could.

"Don't lie to me!" He slammed his fist on the dining table causing Mary to jump involuntarily.

"Please, control yourself!" She snapped in reply.

"Sir Richard, please, there's no need for that," pleaded Carson from his corner.

"Pipe down! I don't remember asking the help for an opinion," Sir Richard seethed.

"Please stop," said Mary.

"I will not be ordered like a child! If you have no ulterior motives, then tell me now what you were waiting tell me later in the gardens." His frigid tone told her that he would not be content to wait another moment.

"I…" was all she could muster while she scrambled to think of some lie to satisfy him until the time was right for her to break off their pending nuptials in a more private setting.

"Out with it," he urged impatiently. Lying had never been one of her strong suits.

"Stop this at once!" exclaimed Matthew, speaking for the first time since she'd arrived.

"You would be wise to stay out of this," Sir Richard said through gritted teeth, his eyes as steely as ever.

"And you would be wise to watch your tone when you speak to her!"

"You're going to defend her now, are you? After her corruption has been revealed? What's the matter? Do you still not believe it? Still chasing after her like a pathetic puppy?"

"She knows that I don't care about that." Matthew purposefully looked to Mary, his beautiful blue eyes made her heart ache and her mind drift to the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body under the thin fabric of his pajamas.

Richard's eyes went wide as he saw their brief but meaningful exchange. "Does she really? And how, pray tell, does she know that?"

Mary's heart began to race as she felt the sudden onset of panic surround her. Butterflies in her stomach fluttered so rapidly she thought she would be sick. He knew. She had a plan, not an elaborate one, but a plan nonetheless. She would take him out their beautiful gardens, speak to him calmly, and tell him that perhaps they were too incompatible for marriage after all. Thinking on it again she realized that it was more of a wish than an actual plan, but it was still better than a full on confrontation, as it seemed Matthew preferred. She stared hard at Matthew, trying to somehow convey to him that this was not the way to go about it.

"She knows because…" he looked at her with bright and hopeful eyes. It was a look that confirmed her fear. He was going to tell Sir Richard.

"I'm waiting, Mr. Crawley."

"She knows because I've asked her to marry me and she has accepted."

There was a tense silence. Mary braced herself for the fury that she was sure Sir Richard would not hesitate to unleash. Instead, to her surprise, he burst into a fit of laughter. She had never seen him laugh before; it was much more unsettling than his rage.

"Excuse me, but I'm failing to see what is so funny," Matthew huffed.

"It's just that this is all so utterly ridiculous I can hardly contain myself." He continued to laugh.

Mary was so enraged at his reaction that she couldn't hold her tongue any longer. "Ridiculous?! How ridiculous would it be if I told you it was true? I have agreed to marry Matthew."

"It would be even more ridiculous, by far. You have already agreed to marry me and you would be a fool to break our arrangement. So far as I know, marrying the both of us is still against His Majesty's laws, unless there's been new legislation passed that I'm not aware of."

"Now you are the one being ridiculous because you know full well what I am telling you," said Mary, full of indignation.

"Do you know what the best part about this is, Mary—the part I find simultaneously amazing and disgusting? Despite the fact that I am the wronged party in this mess, I will be cast as the villain opposite Mr. Crawley's knight in shining armor. When last I checked, a good man isn't usually one who steals away fiancés."

"You know nothing about it!" Matthew snapped. "I've loved her—we've loved each other—long before she ever met you!"

A venomous smirk crept onto his face. "That's where you're wrong, Mr. Crawley. I did know something about it, or have you forgotten? I was a witness to your fall from grace. Don't tell me you don't recall the night you kissed another man's betrothed while your own was only minutes away from death? Poor Lavinia! Tell me, who sounds like the villain now?"

Matthew's fists clenched and his jaw stiffened with rage. "I think its best that you retire now, Sir Richard."

"Yes. Let's all retire for a moment. We'll let cooler heads prevail and sort this out later," said Mary, finally breaking her nervous silence.

"No," Sir Richard said. "I don't think that will be necessary; there's really nothing to sort out, is there?"

"Well—I was hoping we could discuss…" Mary began, but Richard quickly cut her off.

"You were hoping we could discuss what? Your sordid history on the front page? My answer is no."

"No?" Mary repeated.

"Don't act so shocked," he told her. "You can't seriously have expected any other answer."

"I was hoping we could discuss this as two reasonable adults."

"You can't win on all counts, Mary! You can't tell me that, after quite a long engagement, you're leaving me for this...boy and ask me to walk away as though you didn't waste whole years of my life!"

"Fine, publish it in your vulgar newspapers! I've had quite enough of this and I don't care anymore! Guarding this secret isn't worth spending my life with you!"

His eyes went wide and he was silent. Her words were clearly unexpected, but Mary had finally lost her patience. He paced the room pensively, as though planning his next move. Then, with acid dripping from his voice, he said "this won't go unpunished. I'll be sure to tell all of England what a filthy slag you really are."

"Matthew, no!"

Before she could even begin to process what was happening, Matthew had pushed Richard violently against the wall. The two were only inches apart with Matthew's fist menacingly looming over the other man's face.

"Go on, then. Hit me! I'll have you arrested and charged with assault. I'm sure you'll enjoy prison very much."

"I'm afraid that only really works if you have witnesses."

"And who are they," he nodded to Mary and Carson, who had been silently watching the events unfold. "Figments of my imagination?"

"Mary, my darling, where are you right now?" called Matthew.

She scrunched her brows in confusion before she caught on to his plan. "I'm still in my room. I had a rather late morning," she said with a small smile.

"Carson?"

"In my office, Mr. Crawley. Breakfast has long been over and I have quite a busy schedule to follow." A smile also crept onto the butler's face and his eyes began to twinkle ever so slightly. Mary didn't need these clues to know that he would not be missing Sir Richard's company.

"Well then," said Matthew as he turned back to Richard, "I guess they are just figments. Imagine that." He didn't even try to hide the smugness in his voice. Mary could only imagine the look of pleasure on his face as he finally slammed his fist directly into Sir Richard's face.

As neither of the two men could be called fighters, the resulting scuffle that ensued could hardly be called a fight. They wrestled clumsily for a moment and quickly fell to the floor. Both wasted no time stumbling back to their feet and collecting themselves as best they could.

"You will be sorry for this! You will both be sorry for this!" Sir Richard yelled as he made his way out of the dining room.

"Carson," Mary said, "I'm very sorry you had to be involved in this. Please have a car ready for Sir Richard. He will be out on the first available train."

"Very well, milady," said Carson before he exited the room, again unable to stop a smirk from coloring his features.

The chaos which had been so dominant just seconds before seemed to escape from the room behind the other two men. The air was hushed once again. She rushed to Matthew's side.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about me."

For her own assurance, she inspected his face and head thoroughly for any cuts or bruises. When she was satisfied, she looked deep into his blue eyes, just as she did the night before.

"You were very foolish you know," she chided. "You could've really gotten hurt."

"So strange, that's very uncharacteristic of me," he said with mock confusion. "I suppose I can blame it on your influence."

"My influence?"

"Yes. I'm only ever a fool for you."

She boldly grabbed his face and gave him a playful peck on the lips. "I certainly hope you get over it. I should hate to think that I married a fool."

"Oh, Mary, the way you look at me—one glance at you and I'm just a blubbering fool. I can't see myself ever getting over that."

He kissed her tenderly and she melted into his warm embrace, completely at ease for the first time in as long as she could remember. In a thousand years, no one could possess her heart the way he had. She smiled dreamily, letting herself forget for a moment the nightmare Sir Richard was threatening to unleash. Soon she would be married to her Matthew and there could be nothing better in the world.

* * *

To be continued (final chapter to follow).


End file.
